


I Get That Reference

by kjack89



Series: Les Avengers [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Avengers Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheesy Film References, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Les Amis as Avengers, M/M, Sappy Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers AU. Captain France and Iron Man are known for their bickering, but one day the team finds out what Enjolras and Grantaire have been doing behind closed doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get That Reference

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [I Get That Reference](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235277) by [ASINARC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASINARC/pseuds/ASINARC), [kjack89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89)



> How many crack AUs do I have to write before I'm kicked out of the fandom?
> 
> Avengers AU based solely on the Avengers films. This may not end up as the only time I dabble in this universe. I make no guarantees either way.
> 
> Usual disclaimer: if you get that reference, it's not mine. My mistakes have an army, but I have a Hulk, so there.

Enjolras did not really get pop culture references, at least, provided one gave a very loose definition to pop culture and extended it back several decades. Fifty years of frozen slumber, coupled with an annoying propensity toward preoccupation with what he deemed more important matters (“We’re only saving the world, Cap,” Grantaire sniggered. “No need to take it so seriously.”) didn’t lend themselves toward the situation.

Grantaire certainly didn’t help matters. Genius as he was, he could’ve explained things myriad ways, but instead always seemed to slip a pop culture reference into conversation just to make Enjolras pause, blush slightly, and say in a strained voice, “I don’t get that reference.”

Then Grantaire would normally take it on himself to gleefully explain the reference, typically in the most obnoxious way possible. Just because he could.

This didn’t help their near-constant bickering, though the bickering was admittedly better than the all-out fights (“ _You act more like a machine than a human!_ " " _Oh,_ I _act like a machine? Don’t make me laugh, Captain. When was the last time you even slept?_ " " _That’s not the point! You don’t believe in anything!_ " " _Wrong as usual, Cap. How does it feel to be wrong constantly?_ ”).

In fact, their fights had decreased in recent weeks, and while everyone regarded it as a curious change in events, no one was willing to try and figure out what precisely had changed between the two men. Besides, as Jehan noted, their arguments and bickering were almost zen in a way. “It’s very calming,” he told Bahorel, who looked bemused. “It means everything is right in the world.”

Well, if Jehan said it was zen, none were going to disturb it for fear of bringing out…the other side of Jehan.

Of course, it didn’t mean they didn’t argue at all; in fact, they did still argue, typically over the ways to proceed with the Avengers Initiative. “Obviously Enjolras should be the face of the Initiative,” Grantaire said one day, still wearing his suit and probably dripping oil on the couch as he reclined against the cushions, lazily glancing around at the rest of the team. “No one looks nearly as good in skin-tight spandex, am I right, Cap?”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what spandex is,” he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I know. And your suit’s not technically spandex, since it’s made from a different synthetic fabric," Grantaire said cheerfully, undoubtedly about to remind everyone that it was his father who had developed the original Captain France suit, just as it was he who had modified it when Enjolras woke up, but instead he added with a wicked glint in his eyes, "But it does makes your ass look  _fantastic_.”

Rolling his eyes, Enjolras took a deep breath and counted to ten. “The point that I was  _trying_  to make before this little…interruption was that I think it’s wrong for any one of us to be the so-called ‘face’ of the Avengers Initiative. The entire point is to have it as a team effort, and highlighting one person above the rest only dooms that team to failure.”

Combeferre nodded. “I agree. We should rotate who does interviews, and when there are individual jobs to be done, we should rotate those between team members as well.”

Grantaire snorted and tilted his head back. “Oh goody. Who’s going to be in charge of reminding me not to drink before an interview?”

"Maybe you could do it yourself. Are you even good for anything besides sarcasm and drunkeness?" Enjolras snapped.

Grantaire shrugged. “I have a vague thought that I am, seeing as how this is my building we’re in, my couch that I’m sitting on, my design that you wear when you’re out saving the world…shall I continue? Must I shine your shield to make you think I contribute to our little team?”

Enjolras shook his head, too frustrated to realize that he was about to say something he would regret. “Your contribution stems solely from blood money gained by making machines to kill people.”

Grantaire’s smile turned cold. “And I forget, Captain France was designed for peaceful purposes originally.”

As Enjolras turned a dangerous shade of red, Combeferre cleared his throat. “Grantaire, I meant to ask you something,” he said quickly, obviously changing the subject. “What did you put on my bow strings to get them so smooth?”

Grantaire’s eyes didn’t leave Enjolras’s as he waved a dismissive hand and said sarcastically, “Astroglide. Works wonders, doesn’t it?”

Combeferre sighed and rolled his eyes and the rest of the group automatically glanced at Enjolras, waiting for him to say he didn’t recognize the reference. Instead, he looked around. “What?” he asked defensively. “I actually got that reference.”

It was Courfeyrac who said something, because of course it was. “You know what Astroglide is?” he asked, amusement coloring his words. “How in the world does the man who until last week didn’t realize that the International Space Station was an actual thing know what Astroglide is?”

Enjolras bristled. “Because—” he started, then stopped, realizing what he was about to say, and to everyone’s shock, blushed scarlet. “Um. Never mind.”

"What?" Éponine asked, leaning forward. "You really think we’re going to just let this go? Are you nuts?" She looked around for support, eyes lighting on Grantaire, who looked like he was trying to disappear into the cushions of the couch. "Grantaire? You don’t think it’s weird that Enjolras knows what Astroglide is?"

"Nope," said Grantaire, staring determinedly at the ceiling. "Personal lubricants have been around since the early 1900s. Makes sense to me that he would know what it is."

Courfeyrac snorted. “Personal lubricants may have been, but Astroglide’s only been around since the 70s. Besides, last time I checked, Astroglide was the preferred lubricant of only one of us in this room.”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow at him. “Dare I ask how you know our lube preferences?”

Courfeyrac smirked and shook his head. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

He turned back to Grantaire, about to continue, but Jehan laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Don’t,” he said softly, his eyes on Grantaire.

Courfeyrac looked from Grantaire to Enjolras, who was biting his lip as he looked nervously at Grantaire, who was in turn determinedly avoiding his gaze.. “Wait…” Courfeyrac said slowly. “You don’t mean…”

Grantaire stood abruptly. “I have to go,” he said, still not looking at Enjolras, who looked pained.

"Grantaire—" he started, but Grantaire just shook his head.

"Don’t." He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he called, "Jarvis, I’m about to throw myself out the window and people will probably be angry if I die."

Jarvis’s cool voice spoke from the hidden speakers in the room. “Assuming this is not your usual hyperbole, sir, I’ll fire up the flight system in your suit.”

Then Grantaire turned to face everyone and smirked his usual sardonic grin, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Toodles,” he said, firing off a mock salute before doing exactly what he had said and throwing himself out the window.

He only fell for a brief moment before the flight systems room over, his face mask rlsing, and then he was gone, leaving Enjolras staring after him. Marius spoke up for the first time, sounding completely lost. “What the heck is going on?”

"Isn’t it obvious?" Éponine snorted while Courfeyrac said gleefully, "Enjolras and Grantaire—"

Combeferre punched Courfeyrac in the shoulder, none too gently. “Shut up,” he said sharply, turning to Enjolras, who was still staring out the window. “Enjolras?”

"Courfeyrac’s right," Enjolras said quietly. "Grantaire and I, we…we’ve been…um…"

"You’ve been physical with each other?" Jehan suggested softly, and Enjolras shot him a grateful look.

"Right. That. Grantaire thought it might be a good way to relieve some of the tension between us. And it worked, right?"

It was Combeferre’s turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t suppose you two talked at any point about any potential feelings that might have been involved in this plan?” When Enjolras just stared at him blankly, he sighed. “Of course not.”

Jehan stared at Enjolras, having gone very still. “You mean to say that you’ve been sleeping with Grantaire but you don’t know—” He bit off his words, jaw clenching, and everyone flinched, watching him nervously. “Right. So you’re going to go after Grantaire and fix this.”

“Fix what?” Enjolras asked defensively. “I haven’t done anything!”

Jehan’s eyes flashed green and Bahorel snapped, “If you think you have done no offense, I think you mad. Whether intended or otherwise, offense has been done. Seek Grantaire’s pardon or I will allow Jehan to change and will make no effort to stop him from attacking you.”

Jehan grinned savagely and added, almost off-handedly, “Hulk smash.”

Enjolras paled slightly. “Fine!” he snapped. “I’ll go after him!”

Once he had left, Bahorel turned back to the rest of the team, looking somewhat amused. “Do all humans have such difficulty recognizing love?” he asked. “In all the nine realms, I’ve not seen anything like this.”

Combeferre sighed. “I’m afraid that even for humans, Enjolras and Grantaire are a bit of a special case.”

"Yeah, a special case of nutjobs," Courfeyrac snorted. No one could find it in themselves to disagree.

* * *

 

Enjolras found Grantaire sitting on a bluff overlooking the water, an unopened bottle of whiskey sitting next to him. He was still fully suited up, and made no indication that he cared that Enjolras was there. “How did you find me?” Grantaire asked, his voice slightly tinny as it issued from his helmet.

Enjolras shrugged and sat down next to him. “Sometimes you’re more predictable than you think you are.” He hesitated before saying quietly, “I’m sorry for whatever you think happened back there.”

Grantaire leaned back, staring up at the sky. “I think that our team just found out about what Iron Man and Captain France have been doing behind closed doors.”

"Not Iron Man and Captain France," Enjolras said firmly. "You and I. We — we’re not just out identities. We’re also, you know,  _us_.”

Grantaire turned towards him, and even though the helmet hid his expression, Enjolras just  _knew_  that he was raising a dubious eyebrow at him. “How very eloquent of you, Cap. But what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Enjolras frowned. “ _Don’t_  call me ‘Cap’,” he said, sounding like he was trying desperately to control his temper. “Not when it’s you and I, alone.” He paused and looked down. “I don’t care that they found out about us. I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing. Are you?”

Snorting, Grantaire shook his head. “I’m about the farthest thing from ashamed, Enj. Just a desperate, drunken fool as always.”

Frowning even deeper, Enjolras asked, “What are you talking about?”

Grantaire didn’t look at him. “I wish I knew how to quit you,” he said, quietly and contemplatively, and Enjolras just stared at him.

“I really don’t know what you’re saying,” he said blankly. “Is this another reference I don’t know?”

“Damnit, this isn’t about references, Enjolras,” Grantaire snapped. “This is about the fact that I’m hopelessly and stupidly in love with you.”

Enjolras stared at him. “You…what?”

Grantaire looked down at the ground, and Enjolras really wished that he wasn’t wearing his stupid Iron Man suit so that he could see his eyes, see the expression he was making. “I’ve been in love with you as long as I can recall, and I thought that us just sleeping together to relieve the tension would be enough, but it’s not. Not for me.”

Swallowing, Enjolras stuttered, “But I…I don’t…”

"It’s fine," Grantaire said quickly, interrupting Enjolras, unwilling to let him say that words that would only serve to break his heart further. "After all, we’ll always have Paris."

"I get that reference," Enjolras told him, his voice quiet. "But I prefer to think of this as the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Grantaire shook his head and looked away. “I don’t want to just be your friend, Enj,” he said heavily. “I  _can’t_ just be your friend. Not after everything.”

"Take your helmet off," Enjolras commanded softly, and when Grantaire just looked at him, he repeated it. "Take your helmet off. And kiss me, kiss me as if it was the last time."

Grantaire raised the face mask of his helmet, though he looked hesitant, and Enjolras leaned in and kissed him softly. “Who said anything about just being friends?”

“You said…” Grantaire started weakly, though he was far more preoccupied with pressing his lips against Enjolras’s again.

Enjolras sighed and cupped Grantaire’s cheek as best as he could despite the helmet in his way. “You and I will always be friends and teammates, regardless of anything else. But I…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you call it nowadays, but Grantaire, I would very much like it if you went steady with me.”

Grantaire laughed, a genuine, slightly surprised laugh, and batted his eyelashes at Enjolras. “Why, Monsieur, are you really asking little old me to go steady with a man such as you?”

“Be serious,” Enjolras laughed, leaning in to kiss him, and Grantaire smiled against his lips.

“I am wild.”

They kissed for a long moment, and then Grantaire pulled away slightly. “So it’s official then. You and me - for real? Not just having sex, but actually, like, together?”

Enjolras nodded emphatically. “Yes.” He reached for Grantaire’s hand, lacing their fingers together, ignoring the metal suit. “I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Grantaire stared at him. “That’s from  _When Harry Met Sally_. That’s  _way_ after your time.”

“I know.” Enjolras ducked his head and blushed slightly. “Jehan’s been making me watch romance movies. I think he’s been trying to tell me something. And he was probably right.”

Grantaire kissed him again before whispering, “I love you. You…you complete me.” At Enjolras’s blank look, he chuckled lightly and said, “ _Jerry Maguire_.”

“I love you, too,” Enjolras said simply. “No reference needed.”


End file.
